


don't give away the end, the one thing that stays mine

by slashmania



Series: accumulating names like others make friends [6]
Category: Inception (2010), The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Complicated - Freeform, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Some Humor, but a little more sadness, how do I tag this?, relationships, why did I make this complicated?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:56:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmania/pseuds/slashmania
Summary: “Yes, a forgery,” Arthur replied. “I’m a very convincing forgery that you made disappear without a single damned explanation. I get that I served my purpose. After all the years you used my identity and image, it makes sense that I’ve developed a little secondary awareness of whom and what I am. Especially now that I’m back here. Soon you’ll take me down to the shores of the Dreaming and uncreate me, but before you do, I’d like to ask for the equivalent of a severance package before I’m officially terminated.”When Dream didn’t immediately reply, Arthur continued. “I want you to tell Eames the truth. Those are my terms.”





	don't give away the end, the one thing that stays mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long author's note, so I apologize. This story basically answers the question posed in my quote from Eames at the beginning of this story. What would Arthur say before dying? I've spent an entire year writing about Arthur, but not including even a little bit of his actual character, thoughts or opinions. I tried really hard to divide Arthur from Dream by saying he was a forgery or an identity, but once I really started thinking about it, I couldn't stop myself from writing! 
> 
> And then I reread 'the gold in my palm was mistaken for sand' and noticed how often I'd say that Arthur wasn't real, rather than say Arthur was dead, how Death actually didn't show up to take him in the alley (but also doesn't appear at the end of this story either, so you can see how even now I'm skipping over the meaning of death as it relates to Arthur being uncreated). 
> 
> This is how I'm resolving this. So yes, Major Character Death is a thing that happens. I used the appropriate archive warning. It's official. Tissues for all, I sure as hell needed them.
> 
> The story takes place during 'the gold in my palm was mistaken for sand' but before 'Do not stand at my grave and weep' and the title is taken from "23" by Jimmy Eat World. There are errors and I will fix them, I promise.

> _"He'd never really thought about what Arthur would say before dying. He didn't like to consider those things, but sometimes when the thought crossed his mind, he figured that Arthur's last words would involve some sort of criticism of the person who engineered his death."_
> 
> _\- the gold in my palm was mistaken for sand_

 

* * *

 

“I’m going to say it,” the still bleeding point man said as he shrugged off his suit jacket. He efficiently stripped out of his stained shirt, leaving both articles of clothing in a pile at his feet in the middle of the throne room. He frowned as he began to palpate the place the bullet entered. He didn’t curse over what should have been fantastically painful. “You screwed up, Dream.”

Dream of the Endless had only just returned to his realm, the smell of blood, gunpowder, and Eames’s sweat still fresh in his sense memory. He could feel a phantom sort of pain from the bullet he took as Arthur. He didn’t need to strip out of his robes to examine his right side like Arthur was still. He’d have no entry or exit wound. There would be no blood to stain his skin or clothing. There wouldn’t even be a _bruise_ to mark the event.

The bullet was meant to kill Arthur, but not Dream. The bullet rather neatly punctuated the space of time where their previously intertwined destinies became untangled. Dream felt that the punctuation mark would have been an interrobang. Perfect for the urgent questions he had over why Arthur had appeared in the Dreaming.

 _“I didn’t screw anything up,”_ Dream answered the point man. _“It finally happened. Our destinies aren’t aligned anymore.”_

Arthur stopped messing with his wound and leveled Dream with a stare that made many people in dreamshare shudder with inadequacy. “You still screwed up. I’m not talking about me getting shot, or the likelihood that I’m dead. I ought to be dead. Look at how much blood I’ve lost, yet here I am gabbing away with my secret identity!”

_“I’m not your secret identity.”_

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Look, we’ll be at his for hours if you just keep denying. I’m Clark Kent to your Superman. I have a much more interesting job than a standard Clark Kent type of identity, but I understand that you had a purpose going out into the world wearing me like a costume.”

 _“A forgery,”_ Dream answered, and then winced because it brought Eames to mind.

“Yes, a forgery,” Arthur replied. “I’m a very convincing forgery that you made disappear without a single damned explanation. I get that I served my purpose. After all the years you used my identity and image, it makes sense that I’ve developed a little secondary awareness of whom and what I am. Especially now that I’m back _here_. Soon you’ll take me down to the shores of the Dreaming and uncreate me, but before you do, I’d like to ask for the equivalent of a severance package before I’m officially terminated.”

When Dream didn’t immediately reply, Arthur continued. “I want you to tell Eames the truth. Those are my terms.”

Then Arthur vanished from the throne room, leaving Dream by himself.

* * *

 

_“What are you doing here?”_

Arthur had found Dream’s library and decided to sit and read while he waited for Dream’s answer. He’d passed by several texts concerning dream theory written by curious authors so he could sit down with the last installment of the Harry Potter series instead.

“I’m reading a version of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ as it was dreamed up by a diehard fan of the series. The epilogue has been completely rewritten. It also confirms my favorite slash pairing. Well, considering we never read these in reality, I guess this is another thing I’m developing a personal opinion about. I now have a favorite slash pairing from this book series.” Arthur flipped another page and smiled.  “A werewolf and a dog animagus? It’s clearly meant to be _._ ”

Dream had no opinion on the subject. It was true that he hadn’t really done much reading while in reality. The necessary stuff for work, of course. It was curious that Arthur would choose to sit and read _fanfiction..._

Arthur turned another page. “After I’m finished with this one, I kind of want to read all the other versions of the books that were dreamed up by fans. I spotted a version of _Green Eggs and Ham_ rewritten as a thriller!”

Dream turned and spotted the librarian, Lucien. He wasn’t exactly asking for confirmation, but he got it.

“Yes, master,” the librarian said as he returned with an armful of books that he placed on the small table next to Arthur’s comfortable chair. The one on the top of the stack was titled _The Green Eggs and Ham Murders_. There was even a quote from a positive review printed on the dust jacket. It exclaimed: “I do so love _Green Eggs and Ham._ I love it best with the devious villain, Sam-I-am!”

“There is an entire shelf full of popular children’s stories written into different genres.”

 _“That isn’t what I was talking about, Arthur.”_ The Endless frowned at the point man who was still comfortably seated with a book that didn’t exist outside of dreams.

“I’m waiting for you to make a decision. The clock is ticking!”

* * *

 

It was true. Dream was going to have to make a decision about what was to be done. He'd have to take action.

But there was something about telling Eames the truth that made Dream feel nervous.

"I know it's not easy," Arthur said, appearing again at Dream's side as he walked through the castle. "You spent the entirety of that relationship pretending to be somebody else. Are you really going to just watch from the sidelines and not at least tell him why this happened?"

 _"It's too complicated,"_ Dream said.

"Give Eames a little credit. He's the most brilliant forger we know."

_"And please stop referring to us as 'we'."_

Arthur smiled widely, dimpling. "You really _are_ nervous! What do you think he's going to say when you pull him into the Dreaming later?"

_"I will not do that."_

"It would be the easiest way to start the conversation. He's had to have escaped from the alley by now, he's had to have located the nearest safe house. He's going to sleep eventually, Dream. If you loved him even a little you'd at least explain why this happened. If you love him still, you'll want to ease the transition."

Dream was startled to hear that. _"But-"_

"If the next thing out of your mouth is ' _But Arthur I never said I loved him_ ' I will punch you in the throat." Arthur laughed and it was bitter. "You'd think that of the two of us you'd be _happy_ to still have a chance with Eames. Me? I'm not going to exist as anything more than a confusing memory. You're real. You're fantastic, interesting, and best of all, still alive."

 _"I would never take your place with Eames,"_ Dream said it seriously. _"It was wonderful to be in love again. It really was. But I knew that it couldn't last. I knew that eventually I'd have to leave. That you'd have to leave. And he's a mortal with a special skill set in a dangerous line of work."_ Dream kept walking, taking some time to consider his next words. _"I didn't think he'd want to see you dead...I didn't want to see him die, period."_

"I'm going to sift through that minefield of dialogue," Arthur said. "I'll narrow down my answer to one thought, okay?" Arthur took a deep breath and said: "Stop being a chickenshit."

It was rare, but sometimes Dream could be shocked into silence.

_"I'm not...that."_

"Fine. Stop being a coward, then. I think your biggest problem aside from the fact you're going to have to fess up about me not being a real living person, is the fact that you're going to be speaking to Eames as yourself. Just Dream of the Endless, who once took it into his head to go play around like a mortal, got sucked into dreamshare and PASIVs for obvious reasons, then made personal, emotional connections with people. Like Mal and Cobb. And obviously, Eames."

_"This...this has the potential to blow up in my face. This could end badly."_

Arthur reached out and patted the Endless on the shoulder. "And you'll never find out if you don't try."

* * *

 

 _"I did it,"_ Dream announced to Arthur. The point man had found his way back to the library. He'd apparently offered to give Lucien a hand shelving books. _"I first wore your shape, but after I told him, he wanted to see me as I am."_

"Excellent," Arthur said as he took the last book on the his cart and placed it in the correct spot on the shelf. "How did it go?"

Dream took a seat and waited for Arthur to sit in the empty chair next to him. When the point man did so, Dream launched into his retelling.

_"He accepts it."_

"The forgery thing?"

Dream nodded. _"He listened to me. We're going to talk about everything. We're going to talk so much!"  
_

Arthur smiled. "Its going to be easy at first...he'll accept so much, but please understand it's going to hit him harder when everything sinks in. He may accept you, but he still understands that I'm gone. He may not have seen it happen, you may have saved him from the sight of it, but I'm as good as dead."

A little bit of Dream's enthusiasm faded at those words. _"Yes. He's just left the realm. He's most likely awake now."_

Dream may not have said it, but the look on his face prompted Arthur to advise him against showing up in reality, even if it was just to check if he was okay.

"Give him time. Let him grieve." Then Arthur stood up. "Now, I believe my terms have been met. Let's go out to the shore of the Dreaming."

* * *

 

"He's probably going to want to give me a funeral," Arthur said as they walked the shores. The previous aspects of the point man's form were long since cleared away. The space was empty of nightmares, but full of potential for new creations.

They stopped, Arthur turned to face Dream and smiled. "Everything will be fine."

_"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?"_

Arthur shrugged. "You seem worried. I'm telling you that things are going to be okay. Its like I'm running point for you. You've done the hard part, so now you've got to be supportive as he goes through this stuff. Right?"

Dream nodded. _"I will."_

Arthur pulled his totem from his pocket, briefly looked at it sitting on the palm of his hand, then gave it to Dream. "Hold onto it for a bit, then give it to him when he asks for it. Or, you'll give it to him when the time's right. Whichever comes first."

Dream held the totem, noticing the familiar weight of the red die, then put it someplace he wouldn't lose it. It helpfully vanished.

"Now," Arthur began, standing up straight, and dusting off the front of his pristine suit. He smiled. "I have one more piece of advice for you, Dream." The point man's smile faded away, and he glared at the Endless.

"You had better treat him well. You had better treat him better than well."

_"I will._ _"_

"He's-," Arthur shook his head and looked over Dream's shoulder at the vast amount of nothing that was beyond the realm. "He's the best. You've got to understand that. I think he was one of the best parts of my short life, you know? He got me to dream bigger."

Dream placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder, looking into his dark eyes, noticing how carefully Arthur had put himself together for this. The nice suit, the slicked back hair, even the gun he'd slipped into a shoulder holster that he didn't need.

_"I will always think of you fondly. And he'll never forget you, Arthur."_

As Dream tightened his grip on Arthur's shoulder, the point man whispered, "Is this going to hurt? It hurt real bad before when we we're in that alley. I could feel the bullet- it either grazed my lung or was lodged somewhere else close on my right side."

 _"Your physical body is gone. This one here is just energy, thought, and intent. You're like a dream. You won't feel any pain, Arthur. This shape was the first one I imagined when I stood here building an identity so I could try living like a mortal,"_ Dream placed his other hand against Arthur's heart. _"I'm going to reach inside and take something back...I'll let you go. It will be peaceful, gentle even."_

Arthur nodded quickly, and because he was so close Dream couldn't stop from noticing that Arthur reacted to the end like every other living thing does. 

"I'm sorry I called you a chickenshit," Arthur said, wiping away unwilling tears but still forcing himself to make eye contact with the taller Endless.

_"I needed to hear it, Arthur. It's okay."_

Then Dream carefully pressed his hand through Arthur's chest. Very carefully. He reached through him and grasped the bit of his power, the bit of himself that he'd used to create the point man, and took it back.

Arthur's eyes widened as his form dispersed into little flickers of light, little bits of energy with nothing to collect around.

Dream didn't leave the shore till the flickers of light faded, tightening his grip around the little red die that appeared in his palm the second Arthur's form dissolved. He'd give it to Eames. He'd give it to Eames when the time was right.

But not right now.


End file.
